Midnight at the lost and found
by skag trendy
Summary: Sam and Dean have a minor tiff over the car, which leads to something deeper.  Sam isn't coping well with current events...


**Just a short story for you…**

**Midnight at the lost and found.**

"Dean! I'm so sick of this!"

"Yeah well, you aint drivin' that car again that's for god damn sure!"

Sam shifted agitatedly from foot to foot, his glare piercing. "Why? You said yourself it

wasn't my fault!"

Dean was getting a bit riled now. "No, what I actually said was that it wasn't your fault

that dog ran out in front of us, but you over-reacting _was _your fault!"

Sam's face was twitching in that way that said his temper wasn't far off Defcon three.

"You're a real bastard, you know that?" His expression had that twinge of guilt that only

an older sibling can instill.

The Impala wasn't even damaged; Sam had managed to miss the tree by a couple of feet.

Dean grinned sarcastically, almost nastily. "Yeah but I got the keys Sammy." He shook

the said items under his brother's nose to add emphasis.

Sam, after a pause, sighed dejectedly, shook his head and strode off into the roadhouse,

one of many they'd visited over the last few years.

Dean stared in amazement. That wasn't like Sam. Normally he stayed and fought it out.

May be Sam really is turning into a girl if he can't take an argument with his

older brother on a Friday night.

After a few phone calls regarding the next hunt, Dean followed Sam into the bar and was even more stunned at the sight that met him.

Sam was flirting! With the barmaid that Dean had his eye on last night before the hunt. What was worse was that the pretty little thing was responding to Sam, more so than she had to Dean last night. Not to mention that Sam was somewhat pissed already.

Eyeing the empty shot glasses lined up on the counter, Dean drew himself up. Ok Sam, that's just not fucking right.

He wandered casually up to his little brother and smiled at him. "Sam? Time to go home now huh?" Dean put his hand on Sam's arm, and in a consolatory manner he announced loudly "Come on Sam. It's nearly time for your meds, ok? Let's go huh?" This was said sympathetically to everyone watching accept Sam, who heard it for the piss taking, patronizing tone that it was.

Dean didn't see it coming, even when it hit he didn't really feel it. But suddenly he was on the floor, a large bruise developing on his cheek.

He blinked up at his angry looking younger brother.

"Christ Sam. What's wrong with you?"

Sam glared down at him. "Just leave me the fuck alone ok?" And with that he left the bar as suddenly as he'd entered.

When Dean finally made it off the floor and out the door, Sam was no where to be seen. Dean stared up and down the street in confusion. What the hell?

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Sam was quite proud at the turn of speed he'd displayed. He just wanted to get away from his brother for a while, and usually Dean was quite happy for that but since that incident with Jake…Sam couldn't bring himself to call it what it really was.

All he knew was that he was fucking angry. With Dean.

And not over what happened with the car, although it hadn't helped. It just reminded him of what else he was going to lose.

Sam didn't remember much about being dead, but he certainly remembered how he felt when he'd figured out what his brother had done.

Ten years would have been bad enough, but a lousy fucking year?

Sam finally felt it over-whelming him.

And the tears came.

And they were silent and they were harsh and they were painful and suddenly he didn't know how to stop. Dean……

Sam was almost bent double on the pavement, his grief pouring out for his brother who wasn't even dead yet.

Yet…..

That word echoed to damn well in Sam's mind.

He pulled himself upright, and trudged along, hoping against hope that somehow he would drop dead there and then, so that living without his brother wouldn't become an issue. Ever.

He'd tried.

Oh god had he.

Sam had tried walking out in front of a car, and that hadn't worked; every time the damn thing had swerved and missed him.

He'd tried shooting himself and the gun jammed every time.

He'd tried an overdose and the packet was always mysteriously empty.

Suddenly he found himself at an all-night Laundromat. It seemed to be empty, though the instant coffee machine beckoned.

Miserably, he pushed open the door and got some caffeine inside him, though if anything it made him feel worse.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Dean was desperately searching for Sam, when he found him.

Sam was sitting in a Laundromat, on top of one of the machines, his head bent. He looked as though he'd lost his best friend….

And suddenly Dean knew what had brought on this spell of anger.

_Oh Sammy!_

He'd had an inkling how this whole cross-road demon deal was affecting Sam, but this was killing his little brother in ways he hadn't considered.

It was killing his mind, his soul, as if Sam had been the one to make the deal not him.

And Dean hadn't bothered to even try helping him find a solution, having given up on himself.

Whereas Sam would never give up. Not on him.

He swung open the door and sat next to his little brother, who looked up at him sadly. All anger was spent now, but that didn't mean it was over.

Dean, not caring about the CCTV or anybody that might walk by and see them, placed his arm around Sam. Thankfully, Sam didn't shrug him off. Instead, he leaned into his brother's embrace.

"Damnit Dean. Why dya do it?" Sam whispered. "I can't deal with this. I'm lost. I'm too lost……"

Dean hugged his brother closer, placing his chin on top of Sam's head. "Yeah, but I've found you again, just as I did when I came to Stanford to get you." He breathed in worriedly, hoping that what he said next was gonna turn out to be right. "And together we're gonna make sure that we never lose each other again…"

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

I was just awake, unable to sleep listening to my iPod when Meatloaf came on and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Hope you don't mind.

Tough shit if you do really.

Regards,

ST.xxx.


End file.
